Immortal Skies
by thundersenshi
Summary: The night of the Grail draws near, and its successors must come to face a decision they might regret for eternity. Chapter 4: Nash is beginning to think it's a small world in Crystal Valley.
1. Chapter One: Cloak and Dagger

**Immortal Skies  
Chapter One -- _Cloak and Dagger_**

Ernie, frowned, and adjusted her glasses stiffly. She supressed a sigh of frustration as she stood up to fetch another lamp to place by her makeshift desk. It was late in the evening, but she had been granted permission to work inside the association's conservatory even at this hour. It paid to be a brilliant scholar.

Right now, however, she wasn't feeling very brilliant at all. If it weren't for Rhett's reports about the wooden artifact she had given him for a more thorough investigation, she would not even be bothering with this. But she had spent long hours of research on the newly unearthed ruins found a little north of the capital city, Vinay del Zexay, and the intrigue was nearly killing her. She had her speculations; and the more she tailed on these hunches, the more she was becoming certain that it was, in fact, an ancient ritual site they had stumbled upon. And it was no ordinary ritual site she was geting all excited about; that the ancestors of the people who established the Zexen Federation had such beliefs and civilization was a much-debated issue within the local Archeology Association. If her findings were to prove her theory right, the knowledge would be valuable to recorded history and and it would greatly influence modern people's view of their long forgotten past. It would bring about changes she could only imagine.

She spread out the chart in the table before her, then after a while, snatched it, and smoothed it over the marble floor, where it was less cluttered and more spacious. Tracing a fingertip across the map of constellations, she jotted down a few pieces of information on a scratch paper and stood up quickly, striding towards the telescope.

After adjusting the lens quickly and efficiently, she set about her task once more. She was not mistaken the first time; there it was, a pattern, a tiny cluster of stars. She walked back to her work table and grabbed a much smaller map, then proceeded to look through the telescope again. She encircled an eastern portion of the map with red ink, and jotted down the date.

It was half an hour later when she fetched an almanac from the library, and she sat down with it on her desk. She leafed through several pages until she came to a page of a full-drawn star chart. She searched for a while, tracing through the map with her fingers, then referring back to the map she had marked earlier. The pattern seemed similar, but a few from the cluster were missing, and she was not at all certain if the remaining ones were the same stars. Heaving a heavy sigh, and dreading the thought of how fruitless her sleepless night's work was spent, she labelled the more distinctive star, _Chiki. _She looked back at the other map, and labelled the next one as _Chimou_. She skimmed over the chart critically, and finally, she placed a question mark next to the latter. She would have to verify this information tomorrow with Anthony. Astrology was definitely not her field of specialization.

* * *

Winter was at the final embers of its fire, and yet, the cold was unnerving. The sky was a murky black, but studded with a few brilliant stars that seemed to burn holes through the mantle of darkness. Its wonder, however, was lost to the creatures of the night, a pair of them , racing against the tangles of the woods. They were struggling, it seemed, not only to escape the clutches of the wild trees and jagged rocks along their uncertain path, but from their predator. Running for their lives.

It was a hunt. Perhaps their last.

They came at last to a clearing, together, their pale faces scratched and cracked with dirt and dried blood, and their mouths were agape as exhaustion pounded through their veins. Fangs protruded from the crimson slips of their mouths, glinting like tiny silvered daggers against the moonlight. Stock-still, they stood, attuning their senses to their surroundings. Their fear was as tangible as their cold breaths. The male surveyed the the seemingly emtpy area around him, then suddenly grasped the female's wrist roughly, urgently.

"It's the elder," he said quietly. "No mortal could have tracked us so effortlessly. Go now," he commanded his companion harshly.

The female did not move. "What about you?"

"I'll fight her off. Keep the scroll safe."

"No," she hissed. "It's no use battling with her. What can you do against her strength? If we fight her, we fight her both. We are best together!"

He glared at her, his anger rapidly rising to the surface. "Would you rather we die together? We've come this far!"

"Which is why I cannot give up now. If I go off alone, she'll come after me, and I shall be helpless, and all this running will be for naught. But with you, I have a chance! Come with me! We can still escape!"

"No!" he screamed. "You're wasting time, leave this place!"

And with that, he pushed her away with all his strength, causing her to fly backwards and tumble meters away from him. "Take the scroll with you, and flee!"

"How very dramatic, Dymio. I knew at once it was you."

The silvery voice pierced through the thin night mist, and at once, caused the pair of vampires fear that gripped their entire beings. The voice was a delicate sound, and sweet as if it belonged to a young lass, yet eerily cold and detached...and to the two, it sounded like their requiem. Dymio, the male of the pair, whirled around suddenly, only to face the svelte figure of a young girl, hidden by the darkness of the trees--but only for a moment.

She slowly walked towards them, a slight, mirthless smile on her pink lips. Her youthful face stole its color from the moon, her hair, its beams, but her eyes were a shining crimson like the blood that gave her life. Once long ago, someone described her aptly--and to his mortal eyes, she was a vision, bearing a face of an angel, but the eyes of a demon. This was the very image Dymio beheld now, and it seemed to him the vision of impending death.

With a feral growl, he conjured a fireball and threw it at her direction...but he had lost estimation over his opponent the moment he did. In a blink, she was behind him, holding him tightly by the neck.

"Elder...Sierra..." Dymio rasped.

"So the rumors were correct. The people were gossiping about vampires within the vicinity, and I had a hunch that it was the two of you." She lowered her voice ominously. "You've grown careless, Dymio. Harmonians are not the type of people to be trifled with. Crystal Valley is not a place for one such as you."

Dymio continued to struggle against her grasp. "Then why are you here?"

Sierra gave an unladylike snort. "As if my business is any of your affairs." Then she smiled, and leaned close to whisper, "I will enjoy this, Dymio, much as you enjoyed betraying me hundreds of years ago..."

From behind them, the other female vampire screamed like a banshee, and lunged at Sierra, long claws unsheathed. In time, Sierra released Dymio and reappeared in front of them, avoiding her. Her cloak had come unbound from the attack; it had not even touched the ground when she came to stand before them. She looked at the interloper now, regarding her silently, her face betraying no other emotion but for a hint of curiousity. "Ariah," she finally said, calling her by name. "Still as feisty as ever, I see."

"Leave us be!" Ariah cried desperately. For a moment, she thought that the elder vampire's crimson eyes reflected pity. But it was masked so quickly that the apparition was doubted.

"I cannot do that," Sierra told her simply. "As the humans are your prey, you are mine."

Screaming, Ariah lunged again at Sierra, ignoring Dymio's shouts. She continued to claw blindly against her opponent, desperate enough not to have noticed that all her efforts were in vain as the elder was too quick for her. Her preternatural senses could not even guide her movements that were comparatively slow to the much older vampire. In a single motion, Sierra drew back and projected a spell of lightning that struck the woman down. In an instant, the elder vampire was upon her, pinning her body with inhuman strength as she chanted the words to break her captive's soul. Ariah's eyes glassed over, but before she succumbed to the darkness, she heard the last words spoken to her in an almost inaudible whisper..._"I'm sorry."_

Dymio apprehended the scene that unravelled all too quickly with hooded eyes, cursing under his breath. He clenched his fists in anger. He was next.

Sierra's face was inscrutable when she finally stood up from the lifeless body of Ariah, which was rapidly vanishing from sight. She faced Dymio, tilting her head slightly as she did. "She shouldn't have run away. She should've faced the consequences and died with honor." She shook her head. "You brought this upon yourselves. And you," she finally scowled, breaking the expressionless facade she kept until now, "cowardly ran away when your treachery was discovered. You even had Ariah to back up your lies, innocent as she was." She was walking towards him now. "But just the same. You ran away from your fates, both of you. But you can never go back, and you can never escape. And may I add it was too foolish to plot my demise those fifty years ago?"

With all the courage left within him, Dymio laughed. "I would kill you a thousand times over if I could."

He drew a rapier from his side as he openly attacked the elder vampire. Dymio was a vampire much older than Ariah, and therefore much more formidable. It was the reason why he had managed to escape the generations of skilled humans who hunted his kind, since fleeing from the Village of the Blue Moon. Now he was facing his greatest enemy yet, a creature such as himself, and it unknowingly gave him the strength despite his fear. Sierra evaded his swift attacks as if she were naught but a ghost, but she was drawn backwards into the woods. Finally, in mid-air, she conjured up another bolt of lightning and projected it at Dymio. With nowhere to fall back on to evade the direct attack, Dymio blocked with his armed hand, and caused the rapier to fall. Quick on his reflexes, however, he launched himself at Sierra with his barehands. The elder vampire held him at bay as he snarled at her. "Why do you do this? Why do you hunt vampires when you're one of us?"

"Spare me the desperate speech, Dymio," she replied. "Do you think in my years as a hunter, not a single vampire asked me that question?" She pushed him back with all her strength. "You were not meant to dally with the living. You were not meant to flee in fright at the loss of the rune, and turn to humans and feast upon them and steal what is theirs!"

"You created us! You made us into this abomination! How dare you accuse us of what is right and what is wrong!" He bared his fangs and lunged once again, causing Sierra to take flight into the trees.

"I dare because I _did_ make you into vampires. I alone will atone for that mistake. That is my responsibility."

Dymio caught up with her, jumping from one thick branch to another, weaving through the leaves and twigs that barred his way. In a flash, Sierra came down upon him and grasped him by the neck, hurling him towards the ground in a heap. His rapier, the same weapon he had used against her before it fell from his hands, appeared out of nowhere into Sierra's grasp. She pulled the blade close against his throat to discourage him from attempting to unseat her from her position.

Dymio closed his eyes, and hissed, "You gave us this life, and now you take it away from us."

Sierra smiled ruefully, but Dymio's eyelids remained closed and he did not see. "I gave you life when you had none. I gave you hope when you wanted it. That's how the village came to be in the first place. It is the only place in the world we vampires were meant to be..."

Sierra fell silent as she closed her eyes now, as well, and prepared to cast the song that would break the vampire's soul and return him to nothingness. Dymio ceased his struggle as he felt the coldnees creep into his immortal body, breaking his defenses. He opened his eyes, but the anger was gone, and there was unreadable sadness in their depths. His breathing began to slacken, and when Sierra opened her eyes, she was surprised to find that he was looking at her beseechingly.

"If we were not meant to be in this world," he struggled to whisper, "then for what purpose does the Blue Moon Rune exist?"

Sierra did not answer...could not. Before her eyes, Dymio crumbled into heaps of ash, betraying his age as one of the oldest vampires in the world.

The vampire-hunter stood up, and threw away the blade she held just moments ago carelessly. She walked back into the clearing where she had dropped her cloak, retrieving it from the ground where Ariah died. But as she bent over to pick it up, she noticed a tiny parcel wrapped in leather and bound in twine. She held it with her fingertips as she looked it over. Had Ariah been holding this when she attacked her?

She had thought it strange when she heard rumors about vampire sightings in Harmonia, but she had gone off in pursuit anyway. She didn't ask Dymio their reasons for being in Crystal Valley, and she doubted he would've easily told her even if she did. Could this scroll be of some importance to them, attesting to their sudden appearance in the Harmonian capital?

Sierra took the scroll in her hands and tucked it inside her cloak. She decided she was going to find out.

* * *

**Disclaimers:**  
Suikoden and its characters are property of Konami. I have included original characters, though, and some made up villages/places in the future. 


	2. Chapter Two: Return to Knighthood

**Immortal Skies  
Chapter Two -- _Return to Knighthood_**

Percival had been inside the city for the past hour. He was largely surprised at the sights that awaited him, and the bustling noise that was everywhere, as soon as he entered the gates. He didn't think he had been gone that long, only a year or so, and yet...the familiar scenery of his second home overwhelmed him. The absence of such activity was alien to his much more peaceable village, and maybe he _had_ been gone too long. He felt a little like the first time he entered the city gates of Vinay del Zexay as a 17-year old boy seeking his fortunes, and wanting to become a knight...

But it was great to be back.

He had taken the long path towards the dock so he could view the busy port avenue, and the seaside, as he walked. He had decided to save the suspense of reuniting with his fellow knights. The look on their faces, as he imagined it, had brought out the familiar and charmingly boyish grin the Swordsman of Gale was well-known for.

But his expression was devoid of any humor now. Before anything else, his first stop was at the cemetery, located south of downtown. He had entered through another gate that led to the burial site of Zexen heroes, mostly soldiers, who died in the battlefield during the past wars. Now he was standing in front of a pair of tombstones, ones that bore the names of men who had held the greatest influence over him during his early life as a knight.

During the war last year, he had taken several trips to the graveyard as well, much like this one. And for long minutes, he would talk to his late captain and vice-captain as if they were still alive. Gave them news of what was currently happening, and exasperating orders they received from the Council. Told them the progress of his comrades, and the new captain, Chris Lightfellow. He rather thought the pair of knights appreciated the gesture, silent though they were in their eternal rest. When they were still alive, he never had the much opportunity to engage them in small talk anyway.

Now, though, it was his turn to be quiet. He had no other news left to tell; he was there merely for his own purpose.

For the past few nights, he had been having recurrent dreams. And while normally he would not even waste second thoughts on meaningless dreams (for most of the time, he couldn't even remember most of those he did have), this series of dreams had been strange. Not that there was anything remarkable about the dreams themselves...just that they had been persistent. And even more strangely, it was not the first time that the dream had come to him. Once, long ago, he remembered having a similar one...it had taken him quite some time to remember, but when he finally did, he realized he had the dream the same day when both Captain Galahad and Vice Captain Pelize had died in the battlefield. That night, he had lain awake for long hours, wondering whether or not it was a bad omen. During the events that followed, however, he had forgotten all about it. Until now.

Of course, he doubted anyone giving him answers in a graveyard. And even if someone did, Percival wasn't certain he'd like to hear replies from the dead. But he could not deny the unknown forces that compelled him to visit the graves of his late seniors.

"Percival?"

At the sound of the incredulous voice speaking his name, Percival turned around. His eyes lit up into a smile as they descended upon the very form of the Silver Maiden, his captain and comrade, Chris Lightfellow.

Her violet eyes widened at the sight of him, when he finally turned to face her. It had been fourteen months since Percival's return to his native village. The Swordsman of Gale had never set foot inside the capital city during that time, not even once. So she found herself staring at him now, wondering about the changes since she had last seen him.

It really had been too long. He was not in his armor of course, but the differences went beyond that. His hair was a bit longer than she remembered, and he appeared thinner. But his skin was slightly bronzed, and he sported a healthy flush on his cheeks. And his smile...it was that smile which fitted his handsome profile perfectly, and perhaps would never change. The smile told her more than anything, that it was still the same Percival. No matter how older he got, the curve of his lips were still roguish, as if hiding a boy's secret mischief. It was the same impish one that was sorely missed over his year of absence in the Knighthood.

Chris strode quickly towards him, and he met her halfway. Her shocked expression had turned into an accusing one. "You did not tell us you were coming!"

"Ah," Percival said, his grin broadening. "I should've known that the first time you see me in a year, you greet me with a scolding. Glad to see you, too, my Captain." He opened his arms wide, his grin turning devilish. "Alas, no hug?"

She gave him a pointed look, before shaking her head. "Still the same _Percy_, alright." She chuckled as he made a face at the mention of his 'nickname'. "I don't think you deserve one for treating us like that."

He shot her an innocent look. "Whatever do you mean, my lady?"

"Don't jest; you know _exactly_ what I mean. Twice I summoned for you, but the first time, you didn't answer the missive. The second time, Borus and Leo themselves went to Iksay to inquire about you, and yet you were nowhere to be seen. Louis had been dreading the worst, and feared that you had mysteriously gone off into some unknown territory, never to return." She looked at him questioningly. "Where have you been?"

"Oh...that." Percival scratched his head, and looked sheepish. "I've been busy getting supplies for the village since the past month. I didn't mean to worry any of you. I apologize."

Chris shook her head. "We know how important it was for you to leave for Iksay. We understand that, do not doubt. You don't need to apologize for anything. In fact, I might as well be the one apologizing instead, for summoning you from your work there, but..." She trailed off, uncertain with the choice of words she had in mind. She didn't want to sound as if she were pressuring him to make a decision. "We do need you, Percival, I won't be denying that. The border clashes have stirred once again, and the odds may not be as favorable as they once were."

"Which is why you can count on my help." He smiled, looking at her with dark eyes full of conviction. "Duty called, and I came." He gave a little bow of assent.

She looked at him seriously, and nodded, short of sighing in relief. "You have my gratitude. I appreciate this, Percival."

"Although I really would've preferred to hear you were mooning over the loss of your best-looking knight," he grinned at her cheekily. "In any case, you are always welcome, m'lady. I took an oath to the Zexen Federation, the Knighthood and its Captain. And I take my vows seriously, especially the latter."

Embarrased by the proclamation, she smiled at him nevertheless, conveying at least her trust in his word and her gratitude to such loyalty. "I never doubted it for a moment," she told him. She looked back at the tombstones behind them. "Can you wait for me? I'm just going to pay my respects to the Captain and the Vice Captain. Also to my father."

He nodded. "Take your time."

As she turned her back on him, he took it as an opportunity to observe her in silence. Chris had not changed much since the last time he saw her. Not in appearance, anyway. He noticed she was wearing a smart dark red suit, with an expensive-looking coat, dressed up as if she had an important call to make. Her hair was done up in a neat braid, and no jewels adorned her person except for a tiny pair of pearl-drop earrings. Really, she was the same Chris Lightfellow after all this time...except, he noticed she seemed more relaxed now. He wasn't surprised; although the past war had dealt fiercely with tragedies, the victorious tides of its aftermath gave birth to new hope. The people they had met in Budehuc Castle, who had come from all walks of life, had taught them a lot of things they would never have learned if their paths had not come across. The war had changed all of them greatly. It changed him. It changed her, and it was noticeable, too. He had looked into her eyes for mere minutes, but it was as if the young Chris of the earlier years in the Knighthood--full of dreams and ambitions, spirited--was back.

He followed her as she walked towards a more obscure corner of the grounds. As she knelt before it, he realized it was Wyatt Lightfellow's grave, her father's. He noticed fresh flowers had been placed near the tombstone, and that the grave itself had been well-kept. He could only assume that Chris visited it regularly, and tended to it.

When she finished sending her prayers to the heavens, she stood up and dusted her outfit. She looked up gratefully at Percival for waiting for her, and together they headed outside the cemetery gates and back into the city proper. Percival welcomed the sights and sounds once again, and Chris looked at him curiously. "Do you miss Iksay?" she asked him.

"This soon? No, not yet. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the simple and peaceful life back in the village, but you do get to miss out on all the action you get out here in the city. I've learned to love the capital as much as I love my hometown. I've lived almost half my life here, as a knight, anyway."

Chris recalled her memories of Iksay Village, when she had visited it over a year ago during its harvest festival. She smiled fondly as she remembered her brief, yet happily satisfying stay. "How is Iksay, by the way? I noticed you haven't called on me to join the annual festival. I assume the people have been busy with the rebuilding, though," she finished with a small shrug of her shoulders.

Percival blinked in surprise at the mention of his village's festival. A year ago, during the early stages of war, Percival had sneaked Chris away from her worries at Brass Castle, and brought her to Iksay. At that time, it had been an honest gesture on his part, as he noticed how deprived of lighter moods his Captain was with regards to the trouble brewing with the armies of Grasslands. But things had not turned out as simply as he imagined it. At the end of that fateful day, his village had lain in ruins due to the unexpected attack of Grasslanders, he had earned a punch from Borus' mighty fist for risking Chris' safety, and had received a thorough ego-bashing from the same knight that he was bound never to forget. The incident was hardly ever mentioned again after that. So Percival was rightly surprised to hear Chris sounding as if she had honestly expected him to extend the same invitation that seemed like a mistake a long time ago.

"Well, you're right about that," he replied, nonetheless. "The village skipped on the festival several months ago due to the rebuilding. And the crops were destroyed by the fire, as you well know."

Chris frowned. "Will it be impossible now because of the charred grounds?"

He shook his head. "No. Actually, the fire did the soil good, because it neutralized the acid in it. It's clean from from harmful fungi, now, so it's healthier. Of course, you don't want to hear about that," he added the latter quickly, and his face flushed as he suddenly realized how inappropriate a subject farming was, especially to a lady of nobility, such as Chris.

She laughed. "I suppose Barts is happy about that. I still remember the tomatoes."

"'Happy' is an understatement," he replied, grinning. "Barts has given up altogether on his tomatoes; he's swearing on grapes, now, and he insists he'll make them turn out better than those from Chisha."

"Then I guess I'll just have to see them next time."

His eyes widened. "You're serious?"

"Why are you so surprised?" She asked him, raising a single brow.

"Well..." he hesitated. He shook his head. "It's nothing. And anyway, I'm not so sure Borus is keen on the idea." He winced in remembrance of feeling the brunt of Borus' anger and his single-minded obsession with Chris' safety.

"Ah, well..." She trailed off, remembering the same incident as well. "I understand he worries a little too much." If he could, Percival would've rolled his eyes at the understatement of Borus' worrying over her safety in particular. But he restrained himself, limiting his reaction to a half-hidden amused smile. He wondered if Chris, after all this time, with not-so-subtle hints thrown into her general direction quite regularly when he was still around, remained oblivious to it all. He could only guess. "But I don't see any reason why he should object to such a visit now," Chris continued, "when the danger of it has long passed."

"I see your point, but...that's easy for you to say. Of course Borus wouldn't hold it against you--he'd happily hold it against me!"

Chris decided not to comment on this, and turned tail to the original topic. "Spring is just around the corner, and perhaps it would be a good time to start on the planting?"

Percival nodded in reply, effectively hiding his surprise at Chris' continued insistence to discuss the peaceful life at the humble village of Iksay. "The villagers are getting all excited about it. The festival can be pulled off this year. We can go, if you like, only..."

"Only what?"

"Only if I get a week's reprieve from returning to the capital right after. I'm not looking foward to having my arse kicked again by Borus. If I make myself scarce for a few days after such an escapade, then he might forgive me."

She laughed at the look on his face, and then sighed. "You'd think, after all this time, I've proven to him that I can take care of myself."

Percival's inner demons sniggered at that telling statement. Poor Borus; Chris was really hopeless. It wasn't a matter of Borus believing she could take care of herself, oh no. He rather believed the Swordsman of Rage would rather do the taking care of her himself. But he restrained from remarking once again, fighting the urge to gleefully announce the trials of Borus Redrum regarding the untouchable Silver Maiden. It wasn't as if he hadn't had his share of poking fun at Borus' clumsy attempts in making his feelings known...in fact, Percival _always_ initiated the jokes. Blatantly so, that Chris merely brushed them off as childish teasing and _never_ took them seriously. But whatever Borus decided to do to advance the relationship--or the lack of it--that was all up to him. Far be it for Percival to ruin his timing...or style...or whatever. Personally, he was curious about whether or not there had been some progress in Borus' suit after all those months. But apparently, with the way Chris was talking, Percival doubted it.

He and Chris took the path to the city center, chatting away. The physical changes in Percival were minimal, and so more than a few of the city folk seemed to recognize him instantly as he escorted his captain. They were surprised at his sudden reappearance. Surely, they were quick to pass information to all interested, and for a few days, it would be a topic of much gossip among them...how the absent knight had finally made his return after all all this time.

They were heading to the Knights' Hall where the rest of the illustrious knights of Zexen were currently staying. He was already looking foward to seeing them all again, especially after hearing of the adventures he missed out on during his absence. Of how Louis the squire seemed to be developing a little romance with the wine seller's daughter. And how Leo ate some delicacy from the Grasslands that surprisingly didn't agree with his iron stomach. And of Salome acquiring a new squire. Chris also told him how both Leo and Borus had sorely missed Percival's company during their drinking sessions; apparently, Roland didn't think much of being drunk and embarrasingly boisterous and so he seldom joined them. Salome would rather drown in tea, and Louis...well, his taste for wine had improved considerably after vain attempts to impress the girl by the wine store, but he still couldn't hold his liquor as well as the connoisseurs did. Chris was now recounting a story of Roland's mysterious visits to the town plaza, where jongleurs often performed in the afternoon, when Percival came to an abrupt halt. They were in front of the Knights' Hall. Chris looked at him questioningly, and found him staring at the grand, and well-polished building before them, proudly bearing the Zexen Crest. Six poles bore flags that were the coats-of-arms of the Six Zexen Heroes.

Percival turned to look at her, and he smiled. "It's good to be here."

She understood fully what he meant, and shared the smile of content. "Welcome back," she said softly, and together they entered the hall.

* * *

**Disclaimers:**

Suikoden and its characters are properties of Konami.


	3. Chapter Three: Tides of Spring

Okay, I'm sorry, but I dunno why the hell is doing this sort of formatting. The line breaks, asterisks and double dashes are gone, and until I can find a way to fix it...

* * *

**Immortal Skies  
Chapter Three -- _Tides of Spring_**

It was a crisp, clear morning, with the radiance of spring not to be doubted, and people of Vinay del Zexay had taken full advantage of this. While many others chose to sit outside cafés or stroll by the town plaza, some few opted to enjoy a good meal at the Seaside Inn. It was in this very restaurant that Louis had thanked his good fortunes and invited the wine seller's daughter for a warm drink.

He would've chosen some other less-crowded place, but the girl, Diana, didn't want to be too far from their shop in case an extra hand was needed. She had graciously accepted the invitation from the young squire without reluctance, though, which Louis happily noted. Several minutes later, they find themselves seated quite warmly inside the Seaside Inn, enjoying the scrumptious aroma of freshly baked bread among other things. Louis had immediately taken to light chatter, noting that in their previous dates it had been quite effective, his choice stories making a nice impression on the young girl. Apparently, though, Louis has little reason to attend events and social gatherings outside the Knighthood, as was the case of someone in his shoes...thus, his whole world revolved around being a squire, and soon-to-be-knight. And of course, that limited topics of conversation on his part. So the inevitable had come to pass...

"And all seven men came after her, one after the other...they were surprised to find themselves fallen over her blade single-handedly! After that, well...hardly any of them followed suit. And she wasn't even a captain, then," Louis finished happily, drowning the last of the cider from his cup.

This time, Diana did not even bother to feign a smile of interest as he ended yet another story of the Silver Maiden's prowess in the battlefield. It was all well and good, she supposed. After all, the female captain of the Zexen Knights was well-loved in Zexen, and her heroics must have been made into hundreds of songs by bards. She herself had been held captive several times with tales of the female knights' exploits, amazed that a woman could dare such feats. So naturally, a squire, who was working quite closely with the infamous Chris Lightfellow, must be singing all kinds of praises to her. And she had to admit from the start they were very engaging stories, but...she sighed. Couldn't she and Louis have a conversation where he could leave off elevating his captain to the level of a goddess?

At the silence that ensued after gulping down the last of his drink, Louis gazed at his companion with thoughtful green eyes. The fifteen-year old Diana, with her dark auburn hair falling into ringlets that framed her face, was resting her chin in the palm of one hand. She looked somewhat...distracted.

"Have I said something wrong?"

Diana, with her large blue eyes, and dainty, freckeled face, turned to look at him. "You admire your captain a lot, don't you?"

Louis nodded slowly. "Of course! She's one of the greatest knights of all time."

"Hmm..." Diana seemed to ponder on this bit of information for a while. Then she peered at his face closely. "Do you like her?"

"W-what!" Louis seemed shocked at how bluntly the girl asked the question. His left hand gripped his cup, and he lifted it to his lips automatically, without thinking.

"The cup is empty, Louis," he was reminded gently and patiently, with an air of maturity that was rare for a girl of fifteen. Louis' face reddened, and he put the cup down. "I asked you if you like her," she pressed, staring intently at his nervous face.

"W-well... Lady Chris is my captain..."

"But she's a woman, isn't she?" Diana snapped, trying with great difficulty to hide her growing irritation. She didn't know why she seemed bothered, and she was surprised to hear a note of annoyance in her voice. "And you like her in _that way_, don't you?" She bit her lip almost immediately after throwing out that last question. Why did that sound so accusing?

"I think..." Louis coughed, then continued bravely. "I do admire Lady Chris. She's one of the greatest, and most amazing women I have ever known. She has my eternal loyalty and respect."

Diana said nothing. She just stared at him expectantly.

"Are you asking me if...if I like her? You mean...the way...that I l-like you?"

Her face flushed beet red; it was a good thing that Louis had suddenly found the cup in his hand utterly fascinating, and he didn't have to see her blush.

"You were talking about her all the time, that I...I thought..." She trailed off, furious with herself when she felt her cheeks burn hotter. What was the matter with her?

"Well, she is my Captain. And a hero of Zexen," Louis said, suddenly looking sheepish. "I do apologize if I talk about the knights a lot. It's just that I spend most of my time with them, that I hardly know of anything else to talk about." He smiled at her; the stain on his cheeks was still there. "Why don't you tell me more about yourself? You must be tired of hearing boring knight stories from me all the time."

"Oh, no!" She shook her head vehemently, suddenly in a brighter mood. "I've never been outside Vinay del Zexay much, so I don't know much about anything else other than the city itself. It's great to hear of your adventures in faraway places. It must be terribly exciting, being a knight..." She looked coyly at him. "The female captain of the knights, Lady Chris...she must be really wonderful," she said magnanimously (after that confession from Louis, she felt like being magnanimous). When Louis nodded, albeit more hesitantly than he would've earlier, she continued. "Do you think...one of these days, maybe you could introduce me to her? And to the other knights, too?"

Diana did not notice how the smile froze on Louis' face. It wasn't that the young squire dreaded introducing her to Chris, it was that the other knights were bound to get on his case. He wasn't sure he wanted to introduce Diana to the rest of the knights, yet. He could already picture the jeering faces of Percival and Leo as they crack jokes about boys in their puberty, Borus' interrogation of the girl, Roland's mild amusement, and Salome's patronizing glances. Of course, the mental images were highly exaggerated, but they were enough to make him cringe.

"Louis?"

"Oh, of course!" Louis was quick to reply. "Certainly I'll introduce you to them, if that's what you want." Then again, meeting the Six Zexen Knights were probably going to make an imperssion on her... Diana's eyes twinkled happily, and she smiled sweetly at him.

From another table nearby, the sound of chairs abruptly scraping the floor was heard. Two men ambled towards the exit in a rather awkward, and conspicuous manner, as if they were in a hurry to get out. Diana stared at the two strangers, now gone, with a puzzled look on her face. Louis had caught site of the flurry of figures, but that brief moment was enough to merit the look of embarrassed fury (if there was such) on his face as he recognized who they were...

* * *

"Gaaahhhh!" Percival gasped, clutching his stomach, finally releasing all his pent-up laughter. Borus' shoulders shook as he, too, errupted with loud, laughing coughs. The two staggered blindly just outside the inn, not so much drunk on the small amount of alcohol intake, but with mirth.

"I didn't know it was going to be that priceless," Borus said, not quite shaking out all of his laughter yet. "I can't believe he didn't even realize we were there!"

Percival wiped the tears from his eyes, and elbowed Borus. "Shame on you for spying on the poor kid like that," he said. "I would've thought you were above that, Borus."

The blonde eyed his companion skeptically. They weren't really spying; well, not technically. They hadn't meant to, anyway. It was just pure coincidence that Louis and Diana happened to be at the Seaside Inn where they were...amusingly enough, they had to pick a table near the two knights, who were dressed in their arming doublets--Borus in black, and Percival in white--and not so easily recognizable had they been clad in iron. Nevertheless, the opporutnity had presented itself, and Borus was the one who had motioned for Percival to keep quiet and remain unnoticed...at least for the sake of their own fun at Louis' expense.

"Is the pot calling the kettle black?"

"Ah, but this sort of activity is just right up my alley. The Borus _I_ know never engage in anything as fun," Percival said, grinning wickedly. "After all these years, I was trying to knock some sense into you men. I didn't know it would have to take a near-beheading with Leo's axe to get you on the right track!"

Borus' face colored a little and he scowled at Percival's reference to an accident which happened during training, just a week before the Swordsman of Gale came back. "I see Leo must've been telling you stories."

"No, not him," Percival chirruped. "Chris did."

Borus' cheeks reddened even more, and his eyes were glowering. "She told you about that?"

"Aye, she did! Be at ease--you're assured that you've at least provided her enough amusement while I was gone," Percival replied cheerfully. "To think she was left with you starch bags...no wonder she was so happy to have me back that she kissed me!"

"WHAT? How dare--ow--!" Shooting a murderous look at Percival, Borus rubbed the back of his head where he was whacked. "What the hell was that for?"

"To lighten you up," Percival replied, undaunted. "I was joking." When Borus didn't stop glaring, and threatened to retaliate with his fist, Percival backed off. "Hey, I thought it would work. Want me to get an axe instead?"

"Oh, don't do me any favors, _Percy_, or I'll make you eat that axe."

"Better and better!" Percival's grin widened even more. Then he gave a mock sigh of disbelief. "Honestly, you haven't changed a bit, Redrum. You always sound like you've just swallowed a bullfrog at the mere mention of Chris."

Borus' eyebrow twitched at Percival's exaggeration, but to the latter's secret disappointment, he refrained from his usual characteristic outburst that would've proved his claim to being truly the Swordsman of Rage. "I'll thank you to drop the subject now, Percival," was all he said.

"Then don't thank me--"

"Will you stop getting on my case already?"

"Not now, when you're so obviously and delightedly annoyed."

Borus groaned in exasperation. When would he ever learn that dealing with Percival would always lead to talks like this? In all their years of companionship, Borus had learned little about handling Percival's talent for getting under one's skin with just a few chosen words. But he wasn't to be blamed. Among the five other knights, no one else knew much about how best to deal with this habit of Percival, either. Not even Salome was spared from getting a bit flustered whenever Percival decided to pick on him. Probably Chris and Roland were the only ones who could ignore the digs without so much as batting an eyelash. But then, Borus knew precious little about practicing a decent degree of control over his temper, much less about ignoring comments that were meant to get his shackles up.

"Well," Percival persisted, "You should probably take tips from Louis, since he seems to be doing considerable progress on his love life as compared to your nonexistent one...But then again, I'm not so sure Chris will buy that stammering bit." Percival imitated Louis' embarrassed expression as he pretended to blush and stutter. "I l-love you Chris!" he squeaked. "M-marry me! P...please?"

"Shut up, Percy," Borus finally growled, slapping the back of Percival's head, but the unrepentant latter merely errupted in a new fit of laughter. "Only a few days after you return, must you pester me so immediately with your nonsense?"

"But of course! You have to admit that was a pretty smooth save by Louis, though, so you might seriously consider trying it," came the unfazed reply, with a conspiratorial wink. "Speaking of the beautiful lady, why aren't you with her today? You usually jump at the chance to accompany her on missions...well, missions anywhere. Heaven forbid any harm to come to Chris Lightfellow whilst Borus Redrum lives."

Borus pointedly ignored (rather admirably and successfully this time) the latter remark. "Well, she and Salome insisted that no further assistance was needed. She even left Louis here, and Salome did the same to Irving." The two avoided the crowded Port Avenue, and they had already passed by several shops on the street when they rounded on the corner. Several people bowed their heads in greeting to the two knights, and they returned each with nods of their own. Borus continued. "What about you? I'm surprised you haven't accompanied Leo to the ruins," he said, referring to the excavation site a little to the north from the outskirts of the capital city. The ruins were a recent find by the local Archaeology Association, and a high-priority request came for a little assistance for exploring the site.

"Leo assured me he can handle it on his own," Percival answered, with a dismissive wave of his hand. He smiled at a young maiden who passed their way, who, in turn, blushed deeply and nodded in greeting. "He mentioned I should be paying an obligatory visit to the training hall today. He doubts I had any sword practice back at home."

"Ah," Borus said, rubbing his gloved palms together. "Finally an idea with some merit. I must say I have been looking forward to a match since your return." It was his turn to grin evilly. "I just hope you're still good with your sword, as you are with your wayward tongue."

"Oh, I'm even better. I've had quite challenging sparring partners back in the village, excellent and even more skilled, I daresay, than you have ever been, Redrum."

"Really now?" Borus raised a single eyebrow dubiously, the grin still on his face. "And who might those skillful swordsmen be?"

"Rosemary and Buttercup."

Borus' eyebrow rose higher.

"My scarecrows."

"Now I don't wonder why your intelligence has improved remarkably since you left, what with your newfound companions." Borus clucked his tongue. "Why don't you put your sword where your mouth is, Fraulein, and be kind enough to turn it blade first?"

"Hmmm...I remember saying something like that to one arrogant squire a long time ago," Percival remarked, scratching his chin. "But you improvised the latter part. Good for you." He patted Borus on the shoulder, and the latter laughed good-naturedly at that. The pair had reached the town plaza after the long-winded path they took. Percival noticed something at the corner of his eye and he did a double-take at the crowd that was gathered around a bunch of performers, playing music. A fairly familiar head bobbed over the others, quite noticeably because of its owner's height, if not for the striking hair color.

"Isn't that Roland?"

* * *

He adjusted his coat uneasily, feeling the stares and curious glances behind his back.

Looking indifferent about being visibly mulled over was one thing, but attempting to actually feel the indifference was proving a much arduous task. Though looking at him now as he stood among the townspeople, no one would have thought that the elf was paying the none-too-subtle scrutiny with any mind. One would probably go so far as to assume that being one of the six highly respected knights of the country, he was quite used to his fair share of ogling. And in fact, being an elf, a rarity in this part of the continent, had already assured him of that wherever he went.

But being wondered about from a fair distance was not quite as disturbing as it was up front.

Perhaps, among the knights--the people who surrounded him for most of his time--they were more discreet with their inquisitive gazes. Or probably, they had all gotten used to having him around. Sure, the elven knight was not one for mouthing wasteful words...he was one of the less vocal knights around, and certainly, that made him an enigma. People usually respected that air of mystery around him and rarely asked questions that might be perceived as callous, sensitive, or plainly absurd. People usually gave him peace.

That was not the case right now, though. He was being stared at quite openly by a handful of these people.

He could damn himself for having been born with lengthy limbs. Or having been born with light purple hair that made him stand out like a sore thumb in a typical crowd. In any case, he was there among the townspeople, standing at the plaza. Maybe he could stare them down into turning their gazes elsewhere...but why should he act as if he were doing something out of the ordinary, when he was merely enjoying a stroll outside just like everyone else? Alright, so maybe it wasn't like him to be among crowds, but who were these people to assume what he was like and what he wasn't like?

And so Roland stood his ground, determined not to argue with himself anymore.

And while the minutes ticked by, he was recalling why he was there in the first place. His gaze turned downward at the ensemble he had donned before leaving the Knights' Hall. Underneath his coat, he was dressed in his arming doublet, not the dark brown and orange suit that was their uniforms (reserved for official missions, for whenever they represent the Zexen Federation), but his own suit he used for practice. He was scheduled to be attending to trainees and their archery, but it was not until early afternoon. Even so, he had woken up quite early and had decided to visit the training hall on his own (thus, he had dressed for it) until he realized he had one more pressing matter to attend to...

He had promised to see her perform at the town plaza this morning.

Roland had seen very little of her the last month. Winter was at its fiercest then, and though sometimes Nei, Toppo and Shabon had managed to perform in a few cafés at least, these were very rare occurences. The three had found a temporary home at the capital city of Vinay del Zexay when winter began, and they could hardly travel elsewhere. It was also during this time that the knights' and the trio's paths had crossed as they did a year ago when they were all quartered at Budehuc Castle. The trio had performed in the Seaside Inn, and the knights (minus Percival) had been celebrating there, as well. Chris was well-acquainted with their company, having been the one to recommend them at the fire bringers' headquarters, and personally retrieving Shabon when she had gone missing in the big city of Vinay del Zexay a long time ago. The others, having frequented the bar at the Budehuc Castle back then, were also familiar with the three jongleurs. But Roland was friendliest with the elf Nei himself, and it was a friendship that had developed whilst he had passed time in the castle grounds. He had been surprised to see someone of his kind there, and even more so when he had learned that she had actually been in Vinal del Zexay prior to arriving there.

But the first time he had met her, it was not under the usual terms of new acquaintances, and in fact, was a rather awkward introduction. Roland had been riding hard one fine morning, finishing at least half a dozen laps at the racetracks. It wasn't so much that he was intent on training doubly hard with horeseback riding that day, but he had spotted Kenji jogging towards his direction when he was about to practice with his bow...and that made him go running for the opposite way, anxious to escape on what would've certainly been an exasperating episode with the aerobics-obssessed Kenji. Short of breaking into a run, he headed towards the stables and hastily requested Kathy to saddle up one of the Zexen steeds for him. Having successfully thwarted Kenji's plans for competition--he had been avoiding the stables then, having been beaten soundly by Percival for more than a dozen times a few days before--Roland had decided that he might as well spend his morning riding. And when his horse's tongue was nearly grazing the ground in exhaustion, and after making sure that Kenji was nowhere in sight, Roland had then decided to take a break. By that time, he was dripping heavily of sweat, and he smelled of dirt and horses, so he walked off to a secluded area by the lakeside where he could freshen up. He had meant to wash his face by the lake, but he stripped off his drenched shirt first and carelessly threw it by the hammock, which was tied between two sturdy trees...and that was when an aggravated yelp came from within the folds of the said hammock.

Roland was shocked, not having counted on any other soul within the vicinity. How he could have missed the maiden's sleeping shape and form, and her unmistakable bright aquamarine hair, he couldn't say. The sound of protest made him rush to the hammock, fully prepared to apologize a thousand times over to his victim, but the words died in his throat as he was shocked even further. From the hammock rose a decidedly pretty young lady, whose delicate features were scrunched up in disgust as she held up the sweat-drenched shirt between two fingers...but even with her dishevelled hair, a pair of slender, unmistakably pointed ears protruded from underneath.

The apology was momentarily forgotten. Before he had time to think, Roland had blurted out something he could've slapped himself silly for saying--

_"You're an elf!" _he exclaimed.

_"I'm glad you noticed,"_ the elven stranger had replied dryly as she continued holding up his shirt. _"Is this yours?"_ she had asked.

Roland's face had turned exactly three shades of red, as if his hair wasn't enough of a contrast as it already was. For the second time within the five minutes that had elapsed, he had let his instinct run amok again, and he found himself fumbling incoherrently with a confusing combination of elven and human words, most of them in form of apology (although really, it was difficult to tell).

The girl had taken one look at his reddened face, and heard the monologue for a few more seconds...before collapsing into a fit of giggles. Chagrined, Roland put a stop to his babbling and stared helplessly at her. No one who knew the elven knight would have dreamed that he could look so flustered.

She shook her head. _"I'm sorry, I don't speak the elvish tongue much. I was raised by a human mother,"_ she revealed to him, thoroughly amused. Then she tilted her head to one side and peered up at him with an expression of curiousity. _"You're Sir Roland of the Zexen Knights, aren't you?"_

Gathering his scattered wits about him, Roland replied. _"I'm terribly sorry about this, m'lady, I hadn't expected anyone around, I did not know you were sleeping..."_

The girl smiled at him. He was very surprised that she still hadn't burst in anger at his rudeness, probably too amused at his embarrassed state. Then he remembered that she had asked him a question.

_"Yes,"_ he ammended quickly_. "I am Roland Lesaurus of the Zexen Knights. But I must beg your pardon again, m'lady, for I cannot place you..."_

_"Oh, don't worry about it. You haven't met me before. I've simply heard of the only elven knight of Zexen while I was in the city."_ Her smile had brightened then, and the shirt in her hand was forgotten. _"I'm Nei,"_ she had said, and that was that.

And after retrieving his shirt from her clasp, the two of them had washed their faces together by the lake...for the foul-smelling shirt had plopped right into the elven maiden's sleeping face then and had woken her up rudely. Thoroughly ashamed of himself, the elven knight took it upon himself to invite her to tea. Then that had led to an exchange of several more invitations, inlcuding Roland frequenting the bar during his free afternoons, to hear her play the bouzouki, together with her other minstrel companions, Toppo and Shabon. Partly feeling an obligation to pay since he hadn't been so quick to forget the error he committed upon her person at their first meeting (for he realized, were he in her shoes, he would've been _much less_ merciful to the offender), and partly because the elf Nei had proven herself an intriguing character, Roland began seeing her more often. Whilst the rest of the knights tried their damndest to drown their apprehensions regarding the war with mugs of ale, he was content to listen to the music the jongleurs provided. Sometimes, though unplanned, they also met by the lakeside, where they spent long afternoons just talking. Nei was so vibrant as a storyteller, that she had made an avid listner out of Roland. He discovered that she was fiercely independent and mature even at her young age, intelligent, charmingly quirky, and a witty conversationalist. It had amused her greatly to catch the usually stoic elf off his guard with her offbeat remarks, and rejoiced when she was awarded a rare smile that cracked his impassive countenance entirely. And because they wore both elves, they shared a deeper understanding between them, a strange feeling of companionship that neither could, nor sought to explain. It was a wordless bond, intangible and subtly expressed, but undeniably existing. In a world of difference, they felt the same.

And because of this, Roland valued their companionship very much. He and Nei had then become staunch friends.

A few months ago just before winter, she, with Toppo and Shabon, arrived once again at Vinay del Zexay. Before this, though, the last time Roland had seen her was at the victory feast in Budehuc Castle, which had taken place two days after the defeat of Luc. Many months had passed since then. Nei was quick to renew their friendships, though, inviting Roland and the other knights often to special engagements after their chance meeting at the Seaside Inn. Roland couldn't always pay attendance, but he did go whenever he was free. And just two weeks ago, he remembered he had promised her he would see their opening performance at the town plaza (their first engagement in two months), as a tribute to the incoming season.

And that was today.

The three minstrels had just finished their performance, fortunately, as Roland broke out of his reverie. He supressed a sigh of relief, anxious to put a stop to the ogling. Although the music was exquisite, he had not appreciated it as well as he should have, uncomfortable as he was being at the receiving end of curious stares. He turned his gaze now to the trio, who were bowing and smiling to the audience who greeted them with warm applause. He noticed Shabon was not collecting donations, and when one of the people extended their bills, the little girl shook her head and refused politely, saying something he could not hear from his distance. He realized their performance that morning could only have been at the special request of one of the merchant guildmasters, and they had most likely been paid in advance. Lately, most, if not all of their engagements within Vinay del Zexay had been for hire.

When the crowd dispersed, the trio turned to pack their instruments. Roland saw Nei place her bouzouki carefully back in its case and gestured to her companions. Shabon was smiling and nodding, and Toppo was replying to something Nei had said. They talked for a few brief moments, until Nei pointed to something and seemed to ask them a question. When Toppo nodded, she looked satisfied, and then with a nod to her, Toppo took hold of Shabon's hand and together they walked away, leaving Nei to herself.

Roland slowly made his way through the remaining people in plaza, easily parting a path for himself. On the way there, however, he had bumped into a middle-aged, bearded man by accident. He stopped for a while, holding the man by one shoulder, lest he lose balance.

"I'm sorry, sir, are you alright?"

The man looked up at him for a brief moment, before nodding. "Yes, thank you." He pointed his blue eyes across him and without another word, walked away.

Roland stared after him for a while, wondering why he was thanked. The man seemed distracted; he didn't even look as if he understood Roland's apology.

"Roland!"

The elven knight turned around at the sound of the familiar voice, and saw Nei rushing towards him. She was smiling widely, obviously pleased. When she finally reached him, she clasped both of her hands together and tucked them under her chin, her eyes twinkling merrily. "Ah, I'm glad you came!" she exclaimed. "I wasn't sure if you'd remember."

"I came as soon as I could," he said, deciding not to mention that he had _almost_ forgotten about his promise. "But I was a few minutes late, and I wasn't able to hear the beginning of your performance."

"Oh, it was just a few short pieces, anyway. I noticed, though," she said, grinning up at him. "It's pretty easy to spot you in the crowd. But I'm really glad you came. As I said, I wasn't quite sure if you'd remember, and certainly you have other more important duties to attend to." She cringed slightly. "I hope I hadn't pulled you off from work, had I?"

"No, do not worry about it. I am not needed in the training hall until this afternoon."

She smiled at him again. "That's good to hear." She inched sideways as she looked at someone behind Roland's back. "Why, isn't that Sir Borus and Sir Percival?"

At the mention of two of his comrade-at-arms, Roland looked over his shoulder. Certainly it was Borus and Percival, heading towards his way, grinning.

He didn't think he liked the way they were grinning.

"Roland!" Borus said, as he whacked the taller elf soundly at the back with such force that almost made him keel over Nei. He regained his balance as soon as Percival had come to join their little group. "Fancy seeing you here," the blonde continued, still grinning. Then he turned to the other elf. "Ah, Nei, it's always a pleasure to see you!"

"Oh, I --"

"My fair maiden, is that really you?" Percival came forward after having asked the question, armed with a brilliant smile.

"Sir Percival," she said, brightening upon seeing him. "It's been a long time! This is the first time I've seen you since Budehuc Castle!"

"I know," he replied warmly, his eyes twinkling. He took hold of both of her hands, and with a another devastating smile, proclaimed--"Can it be possible that you seem even lovelier than the last time we met, Lady Nei?"

There was a miniscule twitching of Roland's left eye. At that moment, he dearly wanted to put an arrow through the raven-haired fellow's back.

Nei blushed prettily under the reknowned rake's flattery, though she retorted back in jest. "And I see you haven't lost your silver tongue, Sir Percival. Can you even be more of a shameless flirt?"

At her bold comeback, Borus howled with appreciative laughter. Roland on the other hand, was still not liking the exchange, and was glaring at Percival. And though the latter was charmed by the lady's refreshing sense of humor, he was not to be beaten. So he said to her--"Your words wound my heart! Do you doubt me, m'lady, when I tell you that you are the fairest of all elves I have ever laid eyes on?"

"Not really," she answered, her mouth twitching into a grin. "Since I'm sure I'm the only one you've ever laid eyes on."

"Then what about Roland?" Borus quipped.

"Excuse me?" Roland could not believe he was being dragged into such a senseless discussion.

"Oh, would I risk an arrow embedded in my back--?"

"The idea has some merits," Roland said, frowning.

"--than say that you outshine my friend, Roland Lesaurus, a thousand times over? Truly, I'd much rather look at your face than his any day. Yours have such a variety of emotions, after all." Percival smiled as Nei rewarded him with a tinkle of laughter. He looked slyly over his shoulder at Roland, before adding, "Don't you think so, Roland?"

The elf looked sternly at him, while Nei shook her head, amused. Borus and Percival were both grinning maddeningly, until Roland rested his hand heavily on Percival's shoulder, and said, "I've been thinking, Fraulein, that the trainees are prepared for a more challenging ordeal with their archery today. Perhaps they're ready for...moving targets."

Percival blinked.

Realizing Roland's meaning, Borus now laughed and turned to look at Percival, and remarked to the elf, "His mouth moves fast enough, that's for sure."

"Have a heart Roland! It hasn't been a week yet and already you and Borus are jumping at the chance to cause me bodily harm!" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Are you so afraid I might win the hearts of your ladyloves?"

Now Borus scowled, and Roland and Nei exchanged exasperated looks. The elves knew, that while their stay at Budehuc Castle, some people accounted them for being _in love_...and simply because they were seen by some nosey journalist _talking_ to each other! Nei doubted that if it were any other person, human, and not elf, then there would have been no room for gossip. The issue had never been so openly suggested with the two of them present before, but she was secretly glad that Percival's insinuation did not cause awkwardness.

"By the goddess, Percival, you're worse than a gossiping female," Borus snapped. "No offense, Nei."

"None taken, Sir Borus."

"Don't you have something better to do?" Roland asked.

"I--"

"Ah, yes, thank you for reminding me, Roland. I just promised to kick his ass in the training hall. Come along, Fraulein," Borus said, quickly dragging the raven-haired man's arm and winking at his elven friend steathily so Nei didn't see. "You're due for a lesson in keeping your mouth shut."

"Farewell, fair maiden!" Percival bellowed, still grinning madly as Borus continued to drag him along. "May our paths cross as often as yours and Roland do!"

Roland swore under his breath, and Nei flushed. Both stared at the retreating figures of the knights as they disappeared into the crowd.

At length, Roland cleared his throat and turned to Nei. "So," he began, surveying the plaza, "Where did Toppo and Shabon go?"

"They went ahead. Toppo has an appointment with the owner of the theatre and Shabon went with him. Actually, I'm supposed to meet with some people, too," she said, gesticulating with her hand.

"Don't let me keep you, then."

"Oh, it's okay, I still have a few minutes to spare. It's on the way to the Knights' Hall, actually."

"Might I ask who the people you're meeting with?" Roland asked.

"Just some staff members over at the Vanders guild."

"You are acquainted with the Vanders?"

"Not the Vanders in particular," she replied. "Just some of the members in the guild. They were partly responsible for our performance here this morning."

"I see. I can escort you there now, if you wish."

"If it isn't too much of a trouble..."

Roland gave her a wry smile. "You are being too polite, m'ady. It's just me." Before Nei could respond, he extended his arm to her. "Let's get going, shall we?"

She smiled brightly at him. "My thanks."

* * *

Late in the afternoon, a man in a brown coat stood by the docks, staring out into the harbor. The sun had dipped a good deal from where it had been hours before, when he had first glanced out his window after waking up. He turned his gaze to the men picking up their cleaning materials, chagrined to realize that they were already finished cleaning the ships for the day. When he had come out to take a stroll, the cleaning men weren't even there yet, and now they were packing up. He had been waiting that long.

The sound of fluttering wings and squawking of sea gulls caught his attention. When he shifted his head slightly to his side, he was surprised to see another man standing quietly beside him.

"Primus?" The man had said. He had glassy blue eyes that were nearly sandwiched between a black bushy beard and a faded green cap. He didn't appear to look at the man in a brown coat as he spoke. "Primus?" he said again, this time with lesser volume.

Brown-coated man nodded. He reached into his pocket and produced a silver coin, flipping it to reveal the details embossed on it. "I've been waiting. I thought you would never come."

"I apologize," came the reply. "But it couldn't be helped. There's trouble at the brass."

A frown creased the man's features, and he pulled his coat tighter around him. "What do you mean?"

"The missing of the Six is now back. He's here in the city, and I have seen him with my own eyes."

"That's the trouble? We've known about that. We've known that he was due to arrive any day now."

"Then you don't think having all six of them present is going to be difficult?"

"Not at all. At least not that one. We've been counting on his return. Who we want to be rid of, is this." The man in the brown coat flipped his hand again and this time revealed a card. It was a card taken from a simple playing deck, showing the king of clubs.

A pair of bushy black brows rose slightly. "He will be difficult, that one."

"Yes, but once the shrewd bastard is out of the picture, we can get to the others far more easily."

The bearded man smirked. "You have a knack for picking formidable enemies." He gave a single nod, as if to approve. "And the red queen?" He asked.

"Nothing has changed. She is not to be harmed. But she will be dealt with eventually. Now, be prepared to execute the plans soon. I shall inform you when to strike, but the means and the process must be accomplished without a flaw. So take your remaining time and use it wisely. You must be prepared within a fortnight." This time, he took something out from within the folds of his long, brown coat and handed it to the glassy-eyed man. It was an envelope, and a signature was scribbled on where a seal should have been.

With this, the man tipped his faded green cap, pocketing the missive as he went on his way.

* * *

**Author's Notes:**  
- Screams "FILLER CHAPTER!" doesn't it? Originally, it was to be Nash and Sierra's chapter, but I just had to insert this. ; I just wanted to write of some other characters (minor ones), and include short stories of them if I can (like Roland/Nei, for one ). I got carried away writing Roland's shirtless story (I promise, I really hadn't meant it to be so lengthy!); I will probably have to update his progress with Nei on future chapters. ; Just consider it a tribute to Roland/Nei fandom.  
- I'd like to be able to draw you Percival and Borus in their arming doublets, because if you can only see them the way I imagine them...well then I'm sure you'd be enjoying the view very much. All I can do is describe them in detail when the opportunity comes up. For the meantime, you can picture Seed's suit (from Suikoden II) since it's similar to that, only with closer-fitting sleeves.  
- Took down the Author's Notes on characters and settings for the meantime. To people who have read it before, and might possibly remember, kindly forget about all that. I've cancelled the original prequel anyhow, so I ought to be establishing new ground rules on the past and whatnot. Sorry. ; 


	4. Chapter Four: Shadowed Reunions

**Immortal Skies  
Chapter Four -- _Shadowed Reunions_**

Sierra cracked open her eyes.

Instinctively, she dragged them towards the windows as she blinked the sleep out of them. Rain was pattering delicately against the glass, and behind it, the darkened, gray clouds gave no indication as to what time of the day or evening it was.

Not that it mattered to a creature such as herself, she thought idly, sitting up. It was strange, but the sheets had an unusual warmth to them despite the cold outside and the lack of fire inside the room. She could hardly count on her own body heat, if she still had it. Nevertheless, she lingered only for a moment, savoring that bit of warmth, before finally getting out of bed.

The room was small and bare except for the essentials. A bed in one corner then a table and chair at another. She crossed the room swiftly, pulling out the chair where her cloak was hung. Her hand burrowed into the folds of her cloak for a second before pulling out a roll of parchment. She took a seat carefully, smoothing out her skirt, then finally, smoothing out the scroll she took from her cloak in front of her. There was a lamp on top of the table, and this she lit with a wave of her hand, not taking her eyes away from the scroll.

This wasn't the first time she had read the it. Her eyes skimmed through its contents uneasily, feeling deep inside her gut, that she should be troubled about something. And that in itself frightened her. Hundred of years living on her instincts had taught her something. But what did she have to worry about?

Her thoughts travelled back to Dymio and Ariah. She had heard rumors of vampires prowling the city, so she lingered in the outskirts of Crystal Valley, intent on finding out the truth herself. Initially, she was surprised that there were such sightings in the Harmonian Capital. A formidable city like that? It was definitely dangerous for their kind.

But when Sierra had learned that there was indeed a vampire within Crystal Valley, she was not surprised to find out that it was Dymio. The man had always been bold and cunning. After all, he had eluded her for so long. Not even that psychotic Neclord boasted of such a feat. As soon as she was certain of the vampires' identities, she had set forth on her task single-mindedly and accomplished it. She had not even questioned why they were in Crystal Valley in the first place, not until now.

If only she had seen the scroll sooner. If only she had thought to question the pair of vampires before eliminating them.

But at that time, she was more troubled by Dymio's parting words.

_'If we were not meant to be in this world, then for what purpose does the Blue Moon Rune exist?'_

Sierra closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She could hear Dymio's voice in her head as clearly as if he were right in front of her.

_'You created us! You made us into this abomination!'_

When she opened her eyes, she was staring back at the scroll before her. Yes, she did make them into hideous blooddrinkers. She believed it was her responsibility to purge the world of them. She had given them their second lives, so wasn't it only right that they would also be hers to take? Perhaps Dymio believed that he could make a difference, that it wasn't a problem only she could undertake. Perhaps he took the risk of going into Crystal Valley for this scroll, believing that it could change his fate for him.

A frown marred Sierra's girlish features. She stood up from her seat then carefully wrapped the scroll in its original binding. Putting on her cloak and tucking it inside, she went outside her room to go downstairs and talk to the barkeep.

Upon reaching the main floor, she soon found out that quite a number of people had taken refuge from the rain to dine and warm themselves inside the cozy inn. She was uneasy at being around too many people at such close quarters, but she braced herself. It wasn't like she hadn't been in this situation before. Stepping up to the counter, she called out to the woman who was wiping newly washed dishes. "Pardon me," she started, gaining the woman's attention. "Do you know where I can get some ink, a pen and some clean sheets of paper?"

The woman stepped forward, drying her hands on her apron. "Well, I don't advise going out to look for those with the drizzle outside," she replied, nodding her head to the direction of the windows, upon which rain fell steadily against. "I have some leftover ink in the storage, so I can give those to you. And I think I can spare you some paper. Unless you need the lot of them--I haven't been to the store for a while, so we might be running low. How many do you need, anyway?"

"About ten or so. I will pay for them," she offered quickly.

The woman nodded. "Wait here," she instructed, before disappearing into the back room.

While waiting for the woman, Sierra decided to take a seat on one of the stools lined up in front of the counter. She didn't have to look behind her to know the curious gazes that rested on her back. Marid had seen its share of travellers, surely, but they must be wondering what a girl like her was doing alone this far back in the country. Neither did her clothes, of a different style and cut from the locals', help in making her inconspicuous. She wished the woman would come out soon.

As if answering her prayer, the woman did come out after a short while, several sheets of paper one hand and black box in the other. "Here," she said, placing the things in front of her. "Are these enough?"

Sierra placed some coins on top of the table, then proceeded to lift the box lid. There was an inkstone inside, and a pen. Satisfied, she replaced the lid and gathered up the sheets of paper. "They're more than enough. Thank you very much."

The woman smiled at her. "If you need anything else, just ask."

Nodding, Sierra slowly made her way back up to her room. _'If I hurry, I can still make one more trip.'_ In spite of herself, she smirked. _'I've almost forgotten what I really came to Harmonia for.' _

* * *

It was an hour past noon. The sun was glaring heavily upon the crowded cobblestone path of the Southern Station of Crystal Valley. The air was warm with the weight of people bustling to and fro, alighting from carriages, stagecoaches and wagons, yet the ambiance was not uncomfortable. Aside from the unmistakable scent of fresh greenery surrounding the place, it was pretty much a typical busy day at the station.

The Southern gates of Harmonia's capital city was home to sights of varied culture. One could tell that the incoming travellers consisted mostly of non-natives. Many of the men and women came out of their vehicles swathed in exotic clothing and jewelry. Hair and skin color contrasted so much from one person to the other that no one really stood out.

Neither did one lovely lady, in her crisp violet suit, stand out in such a place. Not she. Not even an ebony cavlier hat, perched atop her luxurious auburn hair, did it.

Of course, that only held true for as long as she didn't give in to her temper and opened her mouth. Vocal expression of her discontent usually did it for Miss Lilly Pendragon.

And since it doesn't take much to get her ire up, people find that it only takes a matter of seconds to notice her presence. Even in such a crowd.

"Reed!" Her head snapped to the direction of her blonde companion and she glared at him fully after barking out his name. People nearby jumped at her tone and glanced at her direction before scurrying off. "How long does it take to secure transport in this place?" she demanded, oblivious to the onlookers.

He had withstood her countless complaints through his years of service to her, but that tone never failed to unnerve Reed. He looked at her uneasily and struggled for an answer. "That is, Miss Lilly... Well, Samus is perhaps looking for the most comfortable and secure coach in the area and it will be difficult to--"

Lilly waved her hand dismissively, his excuses doing nothing for her impatience. "Half an hour is more than enough. If we don't leave now, we shall be detained for one more day! I cannot stand to travel at night, I can't even count on both of you for my protection." She tossed hair as she fought the urge to glance at her side, which felt strangely empty without her sword. When she went to her classes, she was never armed, but that practice still hadn't rid her of old habits borne out of past travels. Her weapon was packed away with the rest of her belongings in the trunk because such things were not a welcome sight at the station. She could unpack it once they were outside the gates, but not until then. And they weren't getting out of the gates until they had themselves a transport that could comfortably carry all three of them and her mountains of trunks.

"Miss Lilly?" Reed called out to the redhead who had stalked off without a leave. He started to go after her, but remembered just as immediately that he couldn't just leave the trunks behind without anyone looking after them. "Miss Lilly!" he called out again, even though he knew it would be in vain. He stared at her retreating back helplessly and shook his head. Of course it wasn't like her to turn around and pay him heed once she had set off to her task. But he could very well guess where she had gone off to.

* * *

Lilly lost no time surveying the departure area. A lot of the vehicles were private ones, and it was easy to pick out the ones which weren't. However, she soon found out that if one of the coaches weren't under maintenance, it was booked to someone else. Without her belongings by her side ready to be carted off wherever she was, she couldn't even think to persuade the coachmen to change their minds and accomodate her instead. She couldn't just barge in or steal their vehicle away, not without her trunks. Her anger just about brimming at the surface, Lilly stood to the side of yet another carriage. No one seemed to be attending to this one; no one was at the reins, and no servant boy waiting by the door. It didn't look like it was going anywhere anytime soon, and it didn't look like it was going under maintenace. Grabbing hold of the latch to open the door, Lilly prepared herself to take a quick inspection of the interior before making a dash back to Reed and her belongings so they could hasten their trip home.

But no sooner had she swung the carriage door open than a voice from inside greeted her. "Why Miss Pendragon, what a surprise! Is this a royal welcoming party, or have you just taken to servitude lately? I wasn't really expecting anyone but a servant boy to attend to my bags. Not that there are many of them anyway."

Startled, Lilly jumped back. "W-what?"

A blonde man with bright green eyes emerged from the carriage. He made a show of dusting himself off and straightening his clothes before turning to give the girl in front of him a look and a slow smile. "I saw you coming towards my carriage before you opened the door. From your surprised look, I assume this was all an accident, bumping into me like this."

Recovering from her initial shock, Lilly stared back at the man. "Hey, I know you!"

The man sighed and shook his head. "And she didn't even recognize me before this!" He cried to no one in particular, but she ignored him.

"You're that man who kept hanging around Chris at the Fire Bringer's war, weren't you? Isn't your name Mush or Bush-something-or-the-other?"

"It's Nash, Miss Pendragon. And it isn't really well done of a politician's daughter to insult old comrades-at-arms three or more ways in a single breath."

She planted both hands on her hips as she glared at him, but Nash spoke again before she could retort. "What are you doing here anyway? When I saw you coming, I thought you had something important to say."

His question reminded Lilly of her plight, so she answered truthfully. "I had been waiting too long for Samus to secure our transportation home, so I decided to look for one myself. I thought your carriage was empty."

"Oh, then if that's all, go and help yourself. I'm sure the driver will be out in a while."

At this, Lilly's frown disappeared. "Thank you," she replied, nodding.

"But I must say, Miss Pendragon, I'm surprised to see you." The blonde man glanced back at her as he hauled his baggage from inside the carriage. "What brings you out here to Crystal Valley?"

She arched a brow. "Not that it's any of your business, but I went here right after the war to study. But I could ask you the same thing, mister. Why are you here?" Not that she was really interested in knowing, she just felt like throwing back the question. The man annoyed her for some reason.

Nash chuckled. "What, I can't go back home now?"

"Home?" Lilly echoed. "You're Harmonian?" Nash struggled a bit more with his belongings and didn't reply. "I didn't know you were Harmonian," she finished lamely, looking him up and down and noting his features as validation to his claim. She watched him as he gathered up the bulk of his things before turning his attention back to her.

"Well, knowing people didn't exactly strike me as your forte, _Lilly,_" he said dryly. With that, he gave her a small salute then turned around to walk away. "Good day," he called over his shoulder and never looked back. He had far more important things to think about than bumping into Gustav's daughter right smack in Crystal Valley.

Nash was already far off and nearly out of the Southern Station when a thought flitted across his mind. _'Isn't it the middle of the semester?' _

He realized seeing Lilly Pendragon in Crystal Valley, in a hurry to leave at such a time, was just as strange--if not, even more so--as seeing her there in the first place.

* * *

_'Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click.'_

_'Thup. Thup. Thup. Thup. Thup.'_

_'Click. Clack. Click. Clack. Click.'_

Nash smiled to himself as he listened to the rhythmic footsteps he and his escorts were making. The sounds echoed in the expanse of the hallway, musically slapping on the shiny marbled floor. He loved listening to it. The soft thudding of his boots, and the metal clanking of the guards' greaves...

He was always a little crazy inside the Temple. Whenever he had to walk in these hallways, he did so in some sort of a trance. He was blithe and amused at the simplest of things. In the back of his mind, he knew that being inside the Temple would bring him back out into the world with a strange, new predicament, and perhaps this was his way of coping with it. He would be shuttled back to reality soon enough.

He could already make out the figure of the Bishop from the distance, flanked by his priests. It was easy to pick him out from the crowd, the boy in the robes of what Harmonia has come to recognize to be donned by the most politically powerful. The Bishop and his priests turned around at the sounds of their footsteps. Nash could feel the Bishop's gaze upon him, and as always, it was inscrutable. It seldom gave any hint of what was to come. But it was enough to break him out of his daze.

"Nash", the Bishop acknowledged him with a nod. He turned to his subordinates. "I would like to speak with him alone, please."

A tall, stern-looking blonde official, who stood behind the Bishop, bowed. Nash knew him very well--the Bishop's Chief of Staff, Dios. The man seldom left the Bishop's side, and at first, resented Nash the private audience the Bishop continually granted him. Him! The Latkje boy, a remnant of a once powerful family who had fallen into ruin. He held no special rank in the military and could hardly be called an aristocrat anymore, and yet he was granted favors no ordinary citizen could have. But by now, Dios was used to the man's summons into the Temple every now and then, and knew it was wise to show no outward reaction to the Bishop's request.

Dios turned to the guards and the priests. "You heard the Bishop, let's leave them alone." To the Bishop he said, "We shall be outside the sanctuary if you need us."

When they were gone, the Bishop spoke up. "It's very fortunate you have returned here so quickly. I was afraid you would be delayed."

"What is this about, Sasarai?" Nash asked, not mincing words.

"What do you think?" Sasarai replied, smiling ruefully. He motioned for Nash to follow him deeper into the hall. "When I call on you for special missions, what are they usually about?"

"The True Runes, I suppose." Nash shrugged. He didn't really think there was any other reason. He followed Sasarai into a small room that he thought resembled a confessional, except that it was surrounded with shelves filled with books. The Bishop often brought him here to discuss private matters, and indeed, the room, with its size and seclusion, allowed them to address things not meant to be heard even by the Bishop's own high priests.

In the center of the room were two finely carved chairs facing each other, a small round table between them. Sasarai took a seat from one of them, and gestured for Nash to take the other one.

"I suppose this doesn't come as a surprise to you," Sasarai said, rubbing his forehead. "But this hasn't been in the agenda. I didn't think I would be asking this of you." He paused, and Nash waited patiently for him to continue. He thought to himself how weary the Bishop seemed to look.

"Something was stolen from the Temple."

Nash straightened up in surprise. "Someone managed to break in and steal one of the runes?"

"No, not quite. Although if that had happened again, I wouldn't be surprised. Luc managed it, and his master did before him. Crstyal Valley is irresistable to the most powerful creatures on earth, or to those who wish to be powerful... Fortunately, it's not that. Someone stole a scroll containing important research from the Temple. But it's connected to a True Rune, yes."

"So it's a scroll containing a study of a rune? But scholars from all over the world go in and out of Crystal Valley specifically for studies of True Runes, don't they?"

"Yes, but this was confidential. This knowledge has never been shared to the public. One of the reasons being the questionable existence of the rune in the research. It was being looked upon for some time in the past, but the trouble with Zexen and the Grasslands came up...the true elemental runes came up, in fact, and this study was almost forgotten with all the excitement." Sasarai sighed. "This should have been taken care of a year ago," he muttered, almost to himself.

"So I retrieve this scroll for you, correct?"

"Yes. But there's more to it than that. I wanted you specifically for this mission for a reason."

Nash chuckled lightly. "You mean you just didn't pick me out because I'm a skilled swordsman and extremely capable?"

Sasarai smiled tightly in response. "The thief who broke in was something...not human." The Bishop noticed the visible change in the blonde man's expression. "From what we could find out from its tracks, we are guessing that the thief is a vampire."

Nash leaned back on his chair. He couldn't believe it. "A vampire, huh?" He tried to keep his tone carefully neutral, but Sasarai could anticipate what was coming. "Did you happen to find out if it was a male or female vampire?"

The Bishop shook his head. "We're not even completely certain that it was a vampire. But from the state of the...casualties, it is most likely to be one."

Nash was frowning, deep in thought. "But to break into the Temple...it doesn't seem like _her _ style."

"No, I didn't think so, too," Sasarai smiled, and this time it seemed genuine. "It seems to be the work of a lesser vampire...if we really can call anyone who's managed to break into the security of the Temple a 'lesser' being."

His green eyes darkened as Nash pondered on this bit of information. "Do you have anything else for me to go by?"

"I'm afraid not. About the scroll...well, that's all I can tell you for now. But its immediate return is of utmost importance."

Nash nodded. "I'll see what I can do." He moved to rise, but Sasarai interrupted him.

"Nash, have you visited your sister?"

The question seemed to trouble the blonde man more. It was the last thing he'd expect Sasarai to ask; he rarely ever mentioned anything about his family. It brought back memories. He looked away before answering. "No. Not yet. I haven't had time."

Had he cared to glance at the Bishop that moment, Nash would've seen the tiniest flicker of pity in his eyes. "It must have been too long. You ought to check how she's doing--you and Lena appear to be the only family she has left."

_'As if I'll ever forget,'_ Nash thought grimly. Her sister wasn't a young woman anymore, and though he himself thought her to be fragile, he wondered why everyone else seemed to think the same way. He nodded stiffly as he stood up from his seat. Sasarai did so as well. As Nash lay his hand upon the doorknob, the Bishop spoke up again, making him pause.

"I have not forgotten the years of exceptional service, Nash Latkje. I will see to my end of the bargain..."

* * *

Nash didn't stop by to see his sister as Sasarai had suggested before he took off from the Temple. Yet, it was already late in the evening when he had finally reached home.

Home?

He closed the heavy oak doors behind him and stared at the Latkje mansion in the dark. The enormous, empty house didn't seem like home...and it hadn't been for what seemed like ages.

Alone, he couldn't help but break the facade he had bravely put up in front of Sasarai, and he let out a great sigh. That single breath held a dozen other regrets and bitter hopes within it. A thousand thoughts flitted through his mind, and again he was reminded of things he'd rather forget. He let out a bitter laugh, as he thought again how tempting it was to hate himself.

But that would have been foolish. After all, there was nothing really wrong with his life.

Not much anyway.

He trudged up the staircase noisily, taking off his heavy, leather gloves along the way. It was unlike him to get so carried away with emotions and he rarely ever dwelled in the past. If anything, it was his past that was bothered with him, creeping up on him like that when he least expected it.

Upon opening the door to his room, he placed the pair of gloves on top of a table he knew would be there. But it wasn't until he lit up the first lamp did he nearly jump out of his skin.

"Has it really been so long since I last saw you Nash? You are starting to look your age."

That voice! Recognition sent a jolt of thrill into his veins as he looked, wide-eyed, towards the source. "Sierra!"

The girl stood up from her sitting position on the bed and approached Nash. "What is wrong with you?" she said, smiling smugly up at him. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Or a monster," he blurted out before he could stop himself. Sierra's scowl was immediate.

"I see you have not changed a bit. Your wits are looking as old as you are."

By now, Nash had mostly recovered from the shock of seeing the vampire, and he laughed. "Oho, I wouldn't be the one talking about age, old hag." He swivelled to his side even before finishing the sentence, obviously anticipating, and narrowly avoiding Sierra's clawing. He caught her hand in his and attempted to pull the girl to her, but she snatched it away quickly. "Missed me, haven't you? I told you disappearing on me for so long wouldn't do you any good." He grinned at her impishly.

"Hardly," she replied frostily, turning her back on him. "I came here because I thought I would have you look at something interesting."

"Oh?" He cocked a brow. "Pray tell, what is it?"

Sierra pulled out a leather-bound scroll from her waistband. "This." She tossed it to him.

He caught it in his hand, but even before he did, he recognized the binding and the mark pressed upon it. It was definitely a scroll from the Temple. He narrowed his eyes as he held it up. "This is a scroll from the archives of the high priests. How did this get into your hands?"

"Not by going into the Temple, I assure you, so you can stop that foolish glaring. It comes as a surprise to me that you do seem to know about it."

He let out a sigh as he sat down on the bed. "I've just learned of it earlier. Apparently, someone had stolen it from the Temple a few nights ago." He looked up pointedly at her. "I was told the thief might have been a vampire, but I couldn't believe you'd do something like that. And now you show up my in my house with the scroll in tow. Where _did _you get this?"

"From some old friends." At Nash's expectant stare, she scowled, and added, "I assure you, they are not likely to show up and nose into anyone's affairs ever again." She looked away before continuing. "I have been here for quite some time, and when the news of vampires prowling the city reached my ears, I wasted no time in hunting them down. They had that," she nodded at the scroll. "I did not even know they had it and I very nearly missed it. I was surprised they were in Crystal Valley in the first place, but that must be one hell of an important scroll for them to be risking the wraths of Harmonian high priests."

"Or yours," he added.

"They could not have known I was in the area."

"So there were _two_ vampire thieves," he muttered. "Well, in any case, I was just ordered this afternoon to search for this missing scroll. I'm glad you just made my job a whole lot easier, but you understand that I can't let you keep it."

It was by no means a question; it was a firm statement. Sierra merely shrugged. "Do as you like."

Nash looked at her suspiciously. "You've read through it, I assume?"

Sierra's ruby eyes sparkled with mirth. "Even better, I made a copy. It seemed too interesting to pass up."

"And what have you learned?"

She finally gave in to laughter. "Why don't you read for yourself?"

His frown expressed his displeasure at her answer, but he soon gave in and removed the bindings of the scroll. He carefully unrolled it and skimmed through the first part, mulling over the illustrations. After a long while, he looked up at her and said, "This...it's quite difficult to understand. It says something about...fulfulling a rune?" He scratched his head and looked down at the scroll again, unrolling it further. "From what I know about the True Runes...this is quite different. I always thought all the True Runes had a tangible form..." Nash trailed off as he heard Sierra chuckle lightly. "What did I say?"

"And just how much do you know about True Runes, Nash? The runes are never constant in form, power, or choice in bearers."

A brief pause. Then, "You're right," Nash agreed, almost apologetic. He held her gaze silently for a full moment, knowing she, above all people, should know that the Runes couldn't simply be classified or bound within man-made rules. Sierra was thought to have detached her own a long time ago, and yet, it stubbornly seemed to recognize no other owner.

She came to sit beside him on the bed and said, "If you read on further, it gets even more interesting."

He scratched his head. "This is going to take all night." He stood up so he could stretch his arms to further unravel more of the writings on the parchment.

"Well, do not expect me to be here for that long."

"Why not?"

"Because I did not come to Crystal Valley to get entangled in someone else's business."

Nash grinned evilly. "Yes, and I'm sure that's why you made your own copy." At Sierra's annoyed expression, he prodded further. "You said you were already in Crystal Valley when you heard about the vampires. What were you doing here?"

He could sense the hesitation in her eyes before she finally answered him. "I was waiting for you to come up," she answered simply. She looked away, bracing herself for the teasing she imagined would soon follow. Something along the lines of him being irresistable that she couldn't get away from him too long. Idiot.

But he surprised her this time. "Waiting?" He merely echoed. "I didn't get into Crystal Valley until today. Why didn't you just look for me in Caleria?"

"Indeed? Then I seem to have struck on luck when I decided to come here tonight," she said, smiling as she spoke.

Nash merely scoffed at her evasive reply and turned her around gently to face him. "You didn't answer my question, old girl. Why were you looking for me here?"

She looked at him in surprise, not because of his persistent questioning, but because of how he appeared to be gazing at her right then. Nash's eyes were always exquisitely expressive, whether he chose them to be or just because...she was aware of how easily he could turn them into weapons. But against her? What she saw in those viridian depths startled her at first, more than she cared to admit. It was foolish of him to appear to be concerned for her sake. And yet...there was something else in his look that made her uncomfortable, and she sensed that it was dangerous for her to question. She wondered if he had ever looked at the stiff, lady knight in that way. Surprised at the sudden flow of her thoughts, she irritably pushed it away and decided to answer him instead.

"That may have been the case then, but I do not believe it matters anymore, so--"

"Are you in trouble, Sierra?" he asked her softly, but anxiously.

She laughed, but almost winced when even she could hear how forced it was. She reached up to lay a hand upon his cheek instead. "You are worried for me," she said, in a voice that she hoped sounded lighthearted. "How sweet." She stood on her tiptoes and leaned dangerously close to plant a soft kiss on his other cheek.

The gesture threw Nash off as she expected it would, and it amused her to see the man blushing. At thirty eight! But quick on his reflexes, he caught her wrist, not willing to let her distance herself just yet. "Why don't you spend the night here with me? After all, that's what married couples do, right?" His tone took on a teasing note, but she could hear the underlying seriousness in it.

Sierra closed her eyes and smiled as she leaned against him once more. Nash held his breath, stilling himself. Her face was so close that her lips nearly touched his, but she moved slightly to his side to whisper in his ear, "I think I prefer the blushing youth, Nash. It reminds me of precious days gone by."

One moment she was practically in his arms, the next, the room had gone dark as the only lamp went out. He could barely make out her form, but he knew she was at the opposite side of the bed, standing near the balcony doors. Both doors swung open now, letting a cool, night breeze in...and the vampire stepped into the moonlight that barely showed her face as she seemed to look back at him.

Sierra and her little tricks.

She was gone in a second. There was nothing left for him to do but close the balcony doors, and stare up at the ceiling as he uncermoniously sunk into bed. He doubted he'd get enough sleep now. But he smiled widely in the dark as he mused on the sudden turn of events. Not everything that crept up on him from his past was bad, after all. Weird, perhaps, and most assuredly complicated, but not bad. Gingerly, he traced a path with his fingers on the cheek where Sierra had kissed him.

Not bad at all.

* * *

**Disclaimers:**  
Suikoden and its characters are mine. No, not really. Just checking if you're really reading this stuff. They're Konami's.

**Author's Notes:  
**Engrish. Engrish. Engrish. Deplorable. I probably should have a beta-reader but I'm too much of a wuss. Granted, English isn't my first language, but if I used that as an excuse, let me be the first one to kick my ass. Ouch! (Trans: Thank you very very much for the reviews, guys! I almost can't believe they were all so nice! So far, anyway. ;)


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